


It's Alive

by ThePreciousHeart



Category: Back to the Future (Movies)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Halloween, Studying, i have no more tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3613758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePreciousHeart/pseuds/ThePreciousHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marty is assigned to read Frankenstein for class. He's not interested. Doc is. He helps Marty become interested through watching the movie, and later they base their Halloween night around it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Alive

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in 1984, when Marty's in his junior year of high school. Can be whatever timeline you want it to be, but I think of it as being the timeline where Marty's father is successful, the one he created by going back in time the first time.

       The act of slapping the paper itself down on his desk wasn’t what broke Marty free from his dreamy reverie, but rather the bright redness of the letter written at the top of it. **D-,** it read, scrawled with gusto evident from the fact that the marker was bleeding through the page. Momentarily Marty put aside his thoughts of what he was going to do as soon as he got out of school for the day and gave the paper- his reading quiz on _Frankenstein-_ a once-over. Besides the grade, his teacher had slashed through nearly every question as a way of indicating that Marty’s responses were incorrect. She had even left a note on one of them- _“That happened in the movie- never explained in the book.”_

For Marty’s part, he had never seen the movie _Frankenstein,_ and though he had been assigned to read the first five chapters of Frankenstein just a week earlier, he had only skimmed he first page before losing interest and burying the book deep in the recesses of his backpack. The reading quiz might have come as a warning, reminding Marty that he needed to start studying- but the only reaction that came to mind as he stared at the paper was _At least she didn’t fail me._ Smoothly he stuffed the paper away into the crevices of his binder, content in the knowledge that if he kept his mouth shut about his grades around his parents, they wouldn’t question him and he would get away with this below-average grade scot-free.

*

       Later in the day, Marty’s spirits lifted high as he stepped out from the school’s confining doors, eager to leave his prison behind. All of the lessons that he had had to suffer through faded to the very background of his mind, the pressing urgency of his homework forgotten. In this moment, he was free to while away the hours of the afternoon, and he knew immediately where to stop by before heading home. Taking his skateboard out into the street, Marty waited for a slow-moving car to pass by, and then grabbed onto the back of it when the driver wasn’t looking, letting the force tug him along into a smooth cruise. The trick of it was to choose cars that weren’t in a hurry and to stay in the driver’s blind spot, lest they notice him and grow furious about giving a kid a free ride. Car-surfing was an art, not one that adults would recognize but certainly one that Marty McFly had perfected in his years of practice with the board. And it was one that he practiced not merely to refine it, but simply for the joy of it.

       Today Marty was in luck, because he was able to surf all the way to his friend’s house instead of having to rely on physical exercise that wouldn’t have gotten him there as quickly. The friend in question whom he was prepared to visit was none other than Dr. Emmett Brown, best described by Marty as “eccentric, but very friendly” and by the townspeople as “a crackpot lunatic.” Marty had endured many a reproach for hanging out with him, and the same voices filled his head, as always, as he skated through the gate. _“Now Marty, I trust you to make your own decisions, but I really don’t think you should see Dr. Brown anymore…” “Marty, he’s an old man who wants to hang out with a young boy. Don’t you find that a little suspicious?”_ But Marty managed to block out the mental voices while walking up to the garage where the Doc lived. Confidently he knocked on the door, knowing full-well that he’d be allowed in even if Doc didn’t answer. There was always that pesky key under the doormat…

       However, the door flew open mere seconds after Marty’s knock, revealing Doc Brown standing there in all his scattered, somewhat disheveled glory. His face was molded into a guarded expression of mistrust before it hit him who had come to visit, whereupon the lines on his face smoothed out. “Marty!” Hurriedly Doc beckoned him inside with waving arms. “Good to see you! Come inside, come inside…”

         “It’s good to see you too, Doc,” Marty replied, flashing a smile as he stepped across the threshold into the garage. He took a moment to gaze about the place and take in a deep breath of its peculiar, familiar scent before calling out for the second resident of the Brown abode. “Einstein! Here, boy!” Presently the sound of toenails clicking against the floor echoed across the room, announcing the arrival of Doc’s pet dog, Einstein. When he caught sight and whiff of Marty, he bounded up to him, tail wagging furiously. Half-laughing, Marty bent down to scratch Einstein’s ears, while the dog went wild. “Whoa! Hey, you’re happy to see me, huh?” It wasn’t a question; even before Marty had actually befriended Doc, Einstein the dog had _still_ been happy to see Marty.

       “Einstein, sit,” Doc commanded from above, and dutifully Einstein plunked down, as did Marty. He continued to pet Einstein on the floor as Doc’s voice rang out from behind him- “I’m afraid there’s not much I need help with today. This weekend’s experiment wasn’t… entirely a success.” He paused, and Marty guessed that that “entirely” was an understatement for “utter failure.” Although he hoped that wasn’t the case.

       “So why don’t you take Einstein for a walk while I straighten up around here?” Doc continued brightly. This time it was Marty who paused before saying anything, glancing warily around the untidy garage- if Doc was concerned with “straightening up,” the hidden mess must be _really_ serious. He nodded agreeably. “Sure thing, Doc. I’ll get the leash.” Walking the dog was the least he could do to help his friend, even if it meant less time spent hanging out together. Really, Marty was happy that Doc wanted him around to help and hang out at all. The atmosphere of the Brown abode was always so thrilling, teetering between excitement and comfort. It was both more relaxing and entertaining over here than at Marty’s real home.

       After a good long walk, in which Einstein barked at squirrels and cats and a few random joggers, Marty returned him to Doc’s place, where Doc welcomed them back and settled into the area that was known as the “sitting room.” At first they talked about Doc’s great passion, science, and the experiments that he was planning for the future for which he would require Marty’s assistance. Though science still wasn’t exactly Marty’s thing, he appreciated the experiments and would have been happy to continue speaking in depth about them all afternoon. However, when the subject began to run dry Doc decided to ask, “How have you been developing in your education, Marty?”

         _Education?_ “School?” Doc nodded his head once, and Marty bit back the urge to groan loudly. “Aw, school’s all right. Same as it ever was.” He reached up to scratch the back of his neck, and Doc clasped his hands together in his lap.

       “Are you receiving average or above average grades?” he asked mildly, clearly only making conversation. Marty shrugged. “Like I said, Doc, same as it ever was. My grades are fine.” The vision of that bleeding red **D-** filled his head suddenly, and he amended the statement casually- “Well, I got a D minus on a quiz today, but other than that-“

         “A D minus?” Doc interrupted, his expression suddenly changing from placid to a small frown. Immediately Marty felt that he’d made a major misstep in the conversation. He tried his best to get back on track. “Yeah, it was on a reading quiz, but it’s the first one we had, so-“

       “A reading quiz?” Doc repeated back to Marty, his frown deepening. _Shit._ This was no place for a conversation about school to go. Marty wished he had just kept his mouth shut about it, like he had been planning to do with his parents- but he hadn’t predicted Doc himself would act like a parent.

       “Did you not read the assigned material?” Doc questioned, sounding more and more concerned with every word, and Marty wondered why this was apparently such a calamity. His voice rose as he spoke. “Well… _no,_ Doc, I didn’t read it, but I mean- it’s _Frankenstein!_ It’s just so boring-“

         “ _Frankenstein_ boring?!” Now Doc was so agitated that he rose from his seat, his voice thundering all across the garage. Marty blinked in his seat, freezing into place. Whatever he had done to offend Doc, he wished fervently that he could take it back.

         “No offense, Doc,” he tentatively offered, “it’s just really hard to get into…”

       “Hard… to get…” Slowly the distressed features of Doc’s face settled and smoothed out, and he fell back into his seat. “Yes, now that you mention it I can see where you’re coming from. The book is no substitute for the movie.” His eyes glazed and glowed at the mere mention, as if he was watching the movie unfold on a screen that only he could see. “Why, when I saw that in the theater it was as if a lightning bolt had animated my scientific creativity, just as it animated the monster! If you want to see some action, suspense, and passion, look no further than that film…”

         Then Doc snapped back into reality and placed a judgmental stare on Marty, letting him know he wasn’t getting out of this so easily. “But the book while inferior, is nowhere close to boring. Take my word for it!”

       “I wish I could…” Marty responded, and Doc’s expression softened as he tried a different tactic. “You know, Marty… when I was your age I spent so much time on my work for school and my work for my father that I hardly had enough time to work on the experiments that I loved. But it’s because I did all that work that I got to where I am now.”

       _Living in a garage and hated by all the citizens of Hill Valley_ , Marty thought to himself, but he didn’t dare voice such a statement. He had too much respect for Doc to say something that sour.

       “I’m not saying that you should be exactly like me and leave no time for your interests,” Doc continued, “but you should at least know when to get work done and when to have fun. Buckle down on reading that book and you’ll never get D minuses again!”

       “Sure, Doc… easier said than done,” Marty muttered, looking away from his friend. “I only made it through the first page.” Normally he would have been sore if any other adult gave him such advice, as it was the kind of drivel he heard from teachers and others every day. But somehow he didn’t mind hearing it from Doc, perhaps because Doc had already proved time again that he genuinely cared about Marty and wasn’t just reciting a random spiel to try and dare him to do better.

       “Well, I can’t blame you there,” was all Doc had to say to that, leaning back in his chair and gazing thoughtfully up at the roof above his head. “Hmm, I wonder-“ Suddenly he cut himself off and wildly leaned forward, excitement animating his entire face. “Marty, have _you_ ever seen the film of _Frankenstein?”_

 _If I had I wouldn’t have to read the dumb book,_ Marty thought to himself, but aloud he said instead, “Well… no.”

       With that Doc sprang from his seat once again, startling Einstein in his haste. “Then let’s watch it now! It’s a great classic of modern cinema that you’re bound to enjoy!” Hurriedly he rushed off, beginning to rummage through the mounds of stuff that lay everywhere while Marty could only look on at this whirlwind of energy. “I’m sure have a copy of it around here… somewhere…”

         “Need some help, Doc?” Marty questioned, and soon they were both searching the entire garage with Einstein at their heels, unearthing old personal items and basically undoing the tidying up that Doc had just finished moments earlier. Finally Doc emerged from the clutter with a triumphant look on his face, waving a tattered VHS case in one hand. “Eureka! Now that we have it… come on, Marty, let’s watch a movie.”

       There was a bit more confusion after that, for Marty instantly pointed out that Doc no longer owned a TV. Thus the film was finally screened on a bedsheet through an old projector that took a little more hunting about to find. The lights were turned out, and Marty sat down on the floor next to Einstein as the opening credits began rolling. Doc returned to his easy chair, although he appeared to be seconds away from jumping out of it again the whole time, still transfixed by the images even after so many years. He inched closer and closer to the edge until he could hardly be said to be sitting down.

       Marty hadn’t really been expecting to be able to take the film seriously- initially he was just glad to humor Doc and spend more time with him- but as soon as Colin Clive and Dwight Frye came onscreen, pilfering body parts from graves, he found himself surprisingly hooked. When the famous, pivotal scene came about of Dr. Frankenstein manically shouting “IT’S ALIVE!” in response to his creation’s movement, he was completely sold. The rest of the movie Marty spent riveted to the screen, unable to look away from the grotesque and tragic tale unfolding before him. Then the windmill burned, the credits rolled, and Doc collapsed at last into his seat with a look of satisfaction on his face.

     “How many stars do you give that, Marty?”

       Slowly Marty swiveled his neck around, which he found hurt slightly from staring straight ahead for so long. “Ah… about a four…”

       “Four?” Doc stated, a slight crestfallen look appearing on his face, and Marty quickly added, “…and a half. That was great, Doc. Thanks for showing it to me.”

       At that Doc’s face dissolved into an expression of pure joy and approval, and he nodded once, almost giddily. “You’re very welcome. Interested in reading the book now?”

       In Marty’s mind the image of black text against a white page appeared, and the fuse of intrigue that the film had just lit inside him fizzled out. It was one thing to see a story unfold onscreen, but to actually read the words of a story on a page and try to imagine what was going on… It took too much effort just to interpret a book. And the fact that Marty was being graded on how much he read certainly didn’t help him out. He shrugged in response to Doc. “Maybe. At least I know the _story_ now…”

       “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong,” Doc explained, heaving himself out of his seat. “The film of _Frankenstein_ may be entitled after the book, but in actuality it is a completely separate entity.” Swiftly he moved over to the VHS player and pressed a button to rewind the tape. “To start with, the scientist’s name is not Henry, but Victor. And there’s no mob with pitchforks and torches in the book, not a single one!” He switched on the lights and Marty blinked at the sudden illumination.

         “So the book’s not at all like the movie?”

         Doc paused briefly in his disassembling of the projector. “Not completely, no.”

       “Then why- why’d you make me watch it?”

       A short silence filled the air, and Marty gazed down at Einstein, who had gone to sleep by his feet, until Doc’s soft voice broke it. “Marty- didn’t you enjoy it?”

       Marty glanced up to find that Doc wasn’t looking at him, but the purposefully-occupied look on his face said it all. (Why was Doc always so easy to read?) It hit Marty then that it was a big deal for Doc to show Marty his favorite film, as they had never really hung out like this before. Besides that, it was Doc’s favorite after all, one that held a special, personal meeting to him, and if Marty had tried to show Doc a movie he loved he would have expected Doc to love it too. The way Marty was coming off now was more disinterested than anything, which surely wasn’t the reaction Doc had been hoping for. Taking a breath, he got to his feet and went over to the projector, taking the bedsheet down in a single motion.

       “Of course I enjoyed it, Doc,” he said evenly, and flashed a tentative smile in Doc’s direction when the latter glanced over quickly. “It was a great film. I can see why it’s your favorite.”

        “Yes, it has its merits,” was all Doc said in return, but the light returned to his eyes and the corners of his lips tugged up.

       Soon Marty had to phone his parents and tell them where he had been for the past few hours (though the movie _was_ good, it certainly had sidetracked him). Then he had to leave, but not before Doc gave him a few suggestions on acing his next reading quiz. “When I read the book _Frankenstein_ , it was my interest in the movie that kept me interested. It was highly entertaining to make comparisons between the book and the movie. Now that you know the basic story, I recommend you begin a list of all the differences that the movie has from the book, and those details will help you focus and study.” He coughed slightly. “At least, I believe they will.”

         Marty grinned. “Thanks, Teach. You gonna be up to anything tomorrow?”

       Doc grinned back and patted Marty on the shoulder. “You know me- the same as it ever was.”

                                                                                 *

       For Halloween, Marty was invited to a party. This was an awfully exciting incident, not because it gave him a convenient excuse to be out of the house and leave the door-opening and candy-offering to his mom and Linda and not because it brightened up his social life, but because it meant that he could wear the costume he had been planning and dreaming of since the school year began. He prepared carefully in the preceding days, hitting every thrift shop and costume store for the exact right supplies that cost the exact amount of his paycheck from Doc. (As it turned out, Doc ended up slipping Marty more money than usual when he wasn’t expecting it, and Marty decided not to protest. All his money came from his caretaking job at the Brown place after all- if Doc wanted to pay him extra, let him.)

       Finally the costume was put together, as the eve of Halloween loomed close. Clothing was pulled on and a wig was donned. Stitches were painted on Marty’s face and bolts were attached to his neck. The only hitch in the costume was the rest of the face-paint, which came in both yellow and green, but neither looked right. Eventually the problem was sorted out when Linda, tired of waiting for Marty to get out of the bathroom so she could do her hair, barged in on him and stole the face-paint away. In a moment she returned it with both colors mixed together and then herded Marty out of the bathroom, while he stared at her blending skills and shook his head, impressed. Linda might be a fussy brat sometimes, but at least she knew when to help her brother out.

       Because it was after dark, Marty’s father drove him down to the house where the party was held instead of letting him skateboard. Once there, Marty was slightly disappointed to discover that aside from the costume-clad partygoers, the spooky music being piped in, and the black-and-orange decorations around the house, this party was no different from a party held on any other day of the year. Teenagers lounged about with drinks in hand and friends at their elbow, chatting away and trying to impress others. Marty drifted from person to person, stopping to speak with familiar faces and facing compliments on his costume. Well, most of them were compliments- one student who was in his English class sized Marty up with a big, mocking grin on his face. “You really liked that book Ms. Brett had us read, huh, Marty?”

     “Yeah,” Marty said. “Wasn’t so bad.”

       The kid gave a snort-laugh. “I couldn’t even get through the first page.”

       Sometime during the socializing and extravagant candy-gobbling, Marty began checking the clock on the wall. It was important that he get out of here soon, at a reasonable hour, before the trick-or-treaters retreated to their homes and Marty was expected back from the party. Soon the perfect opportunity arrived- the party host came into the main room brandishing several VHSs and announcing that it was time to watch a movie. As his guests gathered, Marty slipped away out the back door, making sure not to leave without his backpack.

         Little kids hyped up on sugar and their weary parents streamed down the sidewalk, making straight for the next doorbell to ring. Marty bumped into a whole gaggle of them walking together, and he leapt at them, pulling a terrifying expression. As the kids shrieked and scattered, one of the adults threw a dirty look Marty’s way, and he apologized- “Sorry…” and once they were out of earshot- “Abnormal brain got the best of me…”

       By the time Marty had trekked to Doc’s place, the outer garage and front lawn was pretty much wrecked. Any teenagers who hadn’t been roped into giving out candy or gone to Halloween parties had been out tricking, and Doc’s place was naturally the first on the list. Toilet paper carpeted the trees and lawn, spray paint covered each wall, and the windows were smeared with cracked eggshells and yolks. _At least they didn’t throw rocks this time,_ Marty thought, remembering uncomfortably the aftermath of Halloween two years earlier. He unlatched the gate and walked on through to the front door, knocking carefully. On a night like this, Doc would recognize that the knock came from Marty; anyone else who wanted to get in would simply try to force their way. Though for the better, it was rather astonishing that they hadn’t discovered the key under the doormat yet…

       The door swung outward, and Marty was pleased to find that Doc hadn’t forgotten to wear his costume tonight. His typically wild hair was combed back for once in his life, and he was garbed in a pristine white lab coat. Upon answering the door, a relieved sunbeam of a smile filled Doc’s face. “Hello, Creature! I thought you’d never show up.”

       “Hey, Victor,” Marty greeted his friend, and then performed a lurching, stiff walk inside, mimicking Boris Karloff’s movements from the _Frankenstein_ film. Doc shut the door behind them and then went over to the sitting room. “Excellent costume! You’re just in time. It seems the worst is over for now.”

         “Yeah, for now,” Marty murmured, but he didn’t linger on the subject. Ever since first making Doc’s acquaintance, he had learned that to try and talk to Doc about how he deserved more respect in Hill Valley and shouldn’t have to stand for the way people treated him would get him nowhere. Doc always changed the subject as soon as possible, not even acknowledging that it had been brought up. Though Marty still stood by everything he said and still felt his stomach churn with anger when he saw the way these teenagers vandalized Doc’s property, he had long since dropped the argument. _But it’s still not fair that he’s used to this._

In the sitting room was a solitary bowl full of candy corn, which surprised Marty- he hadn’t known Doc to buy candy for Halloween before. Then again, most Halloween nights were spent washing the spray paint off the house and clearing all the toilet paper away from the lawn. There usually wasn’t much time to sit down and enjoy treats.

       “I always buy candy every Halloween,” Doc explained to Marty as he went to pull out the film projector. “Of course no one ever trick or treats here, but it’s important to be prepared! Help yourself.” He made a vague gesture to the general area of the chairs, and so Marty sat down and took a small handful of candy corn. Doc continued, “How bad does it look out there?”

        “It’s the usual, Doc,’ Marty reported. “Nothing more and nothing less.”

       Doc gave a sharp nod in response. “And did you remember to bring-“

         “I got them right here, Doc,” Marty cut in, reaching down to where he had deposited his backpack at his feet. He unzipped it and rooted around before coming up with three movies in hand- _Bride of Frankenstein,_ _The Wolf Man,_ and _Night of the Living Dead._

       “ _Night of the Living Dead_?” Doc read out loud once he was done setting the projector up, his eyebrows mushing together.

       “That’s one of my picks,” Marty said, setting each movie on the table alongside the bowl of candy corn. “It’s a classic just like the Universal movies. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

       Doc shrugged, coming over to his chair to pull the sheet that was covering it off of it. “I was never very interested in zombies. By all scientific account, they shouldn’t logically exist.”

       “Come on, Doc, neither should Frankenstein,” Marty playfully shot back. “I mean, the Creature.”

       Doc shot him a jokingly stern look. “Don’t go confusing those two, Marty. What would your English teacher say?”

       “She’d probably say I’m allowed to confuse those two as much as I want, seeing as I got 90’s on all her quizzes,” Marty replied. He sat back and idly scratched an itch on his face, which earned him a glob of face-paint stuck under his fingernails.

       “And you earned every point,” Doc said warmly, hanging the bedsheet up in the doorway. He went to the light switch, but hesitated before flipping it. “Marty- are you sure this is the most productive use of our time? The paint’s going to be dry tomorrow morning, and-“

         “Doc,” Marty half laughed, crossing one leg over the other and staring over at his friend. “It’s Halloween. For once, let’s just relax a little.”

         The tightness in Doc’s face smoothed out, and he replied with “All right” before throwing the room into blackness. Soon they were sitting in the dark, staring up at the makeshift screen and watching as Dr. Henry Frankenstein was pressured into creating a wife for his monstrous creation. As Marty reached for another handful of candy corn, he figured that this was not only the best use of his time, but the best way to spend Halloween.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently the Telltale game for BTTF isn't supposed to be canon, but I figured the circumstances of Doc having seen Frankenstein in the theater and being inspired by it could still be a thing. The main inspiration for this story was the fact that Marty sounded pretty enthusiastic when talking about the movie to Emmett, and it's probably because he was repeating what Doc said about it to try and hype Emmett up to see it. But I also noticed at the very beginning that he had a Frankenstein poster in his room, so what if Doc had introduced him to the movie before and he really enjoyed it... and maybe Doc gave him the poster for Christmas after this story...  
> As a sidenote, I really love Frankenstein so it was cool to have two things I like briefly collide!


End file.
